Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of
heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the read more

Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of
heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his
sandal shoon.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
read more

I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.

To me at least was never evening yet
But seemed far beautifuller than its day.

To me at least was never evening yet
But seemed far beautifuller than its day.

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The read more

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.

Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye read more

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night.

How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.

How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
read more

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.